“Do You Have a Disability?”
If you’ve only seen my face in the square photo below this post, you probably don’t know I have ectrodactyly.
If you’ve only seen my face in the square photo below this post, you probably don’t know I have ectrodactyly.
From birthdays to holidays to regular weekend trips, Norm’s has been a staple of happy summer moments.
It will sneak up on you, young writer, the temptation to use the power of your words in monstrous, bloody ways.
I’ve heard it said that historians are the “mules of academia.”
Which emails and conversations am I signing off “top of the morning” and which are a definitive “see ya never, loser”?
What does it mean to try to persuade when you don’t think you can?
Snail mail and physical photos seemed nearly archaic compared to the methods I already used to keep in touch with those I missed.
The older I get, the more I watch women around me trying desperately to get pregnant, after being told for years that “it only takes one time,” that it would ruin you.
Whenever I finish typing out a list of any kind, I’m wincing at the realities my commas elide.
The longer you stay alive, the more you learn about yourself.